


New Age Religions

by Sand3



Category: Loki: Agent of Asgard, Marvel 616, The Incredible Hulk (Comics)
Genre: Gen, References to physical abuse, references to unhealthy relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 12:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6375007
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sand3/pseuds/Sand3
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Verity stormed out the apartment door and pulled it shut behind her with a slam. Then she froze, finding herself suddenly surrounded by a SWAT team. “Wha--” she started before somebody grabbed her and clapped a hand over her mouth.</p><p>“Shhhshshshh. It’s all right. Don’t panic. We’re not going to hurt you,” the SWAT-geared man assured her. “Calm down. Everything’s going to be fine.”</p><p> </p><p>Starting immediately after Agent of Asgard Issue 11. Enter the <em>other</em> other side of the family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	New Age Religions

**Author's Note:**

> Jumping off point is a bit abrupt. Starts the same second issue 11 ends.

“ _No!_ No more _excuses!_ ” Verity shouted and then turned sharply away, she could feel tears trying to work their way out and she was _not_ going to cry in front of him. “No more saying sorry like it'll _fix_ everything! I _told_ you, Loki. I can't _do_ it anymore. _I'm done_.” She stormed out the apartment door and pulled it shut behind her with a slam.

Then she froze, finding herself suddenly surrounded by a SWAT team. “Wha--” she started before somebody grabbed her and clapped a hand over her mouth. Verity grabbed at the hand and the arm attached to it, but the SWAT-person’s grip was like iron.

“Shhhshshshh. It’s all right. Don’t panic. We’re not going to hurt you,” the SWAT-geared man assured her. “Calm down. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“She’s gonna scream the minute you let her go. We should have brought chloroform or something,” a woman said, her voice slightly weird-sounding through a helmet with a polarized face-shield.

“Oh please, we’re not _thugs_ ,” the smallest SWAT-person admonished. “Miss Willis is an intelligent woman, I’m sure she’ll be perfectly cooperative. We’re all rational adults here, after all.” The last statement rang somewhere in the nebulous space between true and false, the statement apparently not exactly either. SWAT-boy was a few inches shorter than Verity and sounded somewhere on the low-end of his teens.

“We not gon’ hurd you, lady. We da good guys.”

Verity twisted her head slightly to catch sight of the speaker and then gave a little terror-spasm, because he was at least half-again Thor’s size and covered head-to-toe in metal. “No no no, don’t worry. Ajax is a teddy-bear,” the man holding Verity assured her.

“Where are we, Atalanta?” the teenaged one asked, tapping the radio button at his shoulder.

“ _I’m in position but the target keeps moving around. Not sure if he knows I’m here or he’s just being a jack-ass_ ,” a female voice answered.

“Wait for him to settle. We can’t afford mistakes,” the teenager ordered, apparently in charge.

“ _Roger that_.”

“Hector, take Miss Willis to the elevators,” the teenager said, helmeted head turning toward the SWAT-person holding Verity.

“Right this way, Miss,” Verity’s captor urged, pulling her down the hall. Verity started struggling and kicking, but his shins were armored. The SWAT-person was apparently unreasonably strong and all her fighting wasn’t really even slowing him down. She decided to change tactics and shot her hand out, grabbing at the teenaged one as they passed. “Really, we’re not looking to cause you any trouble here. I’m just trying to get you out of harm’s way,” her captor sighed, and it was true.

The teenager caught her wrist and pushed his thumb into the pressure-point below her palm, forcing her hand open and away, but he tilted his head a little and seemed to consider her. “It looks as though you have a question? Do you promise not to scream, Miss Willis?” he asked.

Verity narrowed her eyes and nodded, and her captor moved the hand covering her mouth. “Who the _fuck_ are you people?” Verity spat, glaring at the teenager.

“Just an interested party,” the teenager replied smugly, the answer too ambiguous to be a lie.

“Oh _fuck_ you! What do you want with Loki?” she demanded.

“What do you care?” the teenager turned his head a little in a mockingly curious gesture.

“ _What_ are you going to _do_ to him?”

“The old one we’re going to kill. It’s not as if he’s actually _real_ yet in this time and causality anyway. Just a figment of the imagination, a possibility that I plan to abolish before it gets started,” the teenager replied, every word of it impossibly true. “The young one, well I thought we could give him that sense of purpose and belonging he so desperately craves.” All true.

Verity narrowed her eyes and glared at the polarized face-shield. “... _How?_ ” she hissed.

The teenager let out a small chuckle. “You’re very protective for someone who supposedly just walked out of his life,” he noted and reached up, undoing a couple of clips holding his helmet in place and then lifting it off as he answered. “I thought I would start by introducing him to the family,” he said, smirking at Verity with Loki’s lips and Loki’s eyes- no, they were blue- and a face that was in almost every way a younger, brunette version of Loki.

“... _Who_ are you?” Verity demanded, staring at the teenager.

“I believe I just told you.”

“ _He’s settled_ ,” the female voice from before called over the radio.

“Thank you, Atalanta. Please hold your fire another moment, we have a civilian in range,” the teenager replied into his radio.

“ _Roger_.”

“Miss Willis, I will ask you to please be on your way now so that I can get back to rescuing my little brother from himself,” the teenager said truthfully, giving Verity a pointed look. “Let her go, Hector.” The SWAT-person holding Verity released her and Verity stood still for a moment, glaring at the teenager. “Please leave, Miss Willis, things are about to get exciting here.”

“... You’re not going to hurt him?” Verity asked quietly.

“I will not hurt him,” the teenager said in a firm, definite voice and then reached into a pocket on his SWAT outfit and pulled out a business card, handing it to her. “You can check up later if you want, but right now I really need you to be on your way. I do not want you getting caught in the cross-fire if the old man puts up a fight.”

Verity frowned, taking the business card and trying to decide if she’d ever seen the red handprint logo before. She glanced back up at the teenager, biting her lip.

“Miss Willis, you saw him get thrown off a building and stand back up. He’ll be _fine_ ,” the teenager said, fitting the helmet back over his head. “ _You_ , however, would _not_ be. So please back up, because we are about to break down this door and charge into that room with guns blazing.” All true.

“... Fine,” Verity said, shoving the card into her pocket and turning toward the elevator, walking quickly down the hall.

“Ajax, here,” she could hear the teenager’s voice directing. “Atalanta, we are now in position. Do you still have your mark?”

“ _Roger_.”

Verity pressed the down-button on the elevator and the doors opened instantly, the car apparently ready and waiting. As she stepped in, she heard the teenager’s voice giving an order back to the radio. “All right, everyone ready to move on a three-cou--” his words were cut off as the elevator doors slid shut. The elevator had just started to drop when Verity heard the crash. She bit her lip and shut her eyes, pressing herself against the wall and hoping very hard that Loki wasn’t about to die.

000

Loki couldn’t struggle, but he could turn his head just enough to appreciate that the seat he’d been strapped into was in the style of an old-timey electric chair. Cute. The old man was starting to spin his horror story, but Loki had _no_ intention of listening to it. He tried to tune it out and concentrate on escape. The gag didn’t just cover his mouth on the outside, it held his teeth and lips apart within, preventing him from forming even silent words. Spoken spells were out. The arm-rests of the chair stopped short just after the wrist restraints and were undercut enough to keep him from scratching at the chair with his fingers. Written spells were out. If he strained at his binds, they tightened, choking him, pressing in until it felt like his bones would snap. Gestural spells were out.

The old man knew him too well, knew all his tricks completely, all his weaknesses. The only option left to Loki was prayer, and there was no god left that would hear him. But he refused to hear what the wrinkly old bastard was saying. He refused to listen. It wasn’t true. It wasn’t real. He could change it. He could fight it. Nothing the old man said mattered because it _wouldn’t be that way_. Loki screwed his eyes shut and played loud, furious Muse songs in his head. His rage and paranoia would _not_ be conquered! The revolution is now! Fuck your _fate!_

As busy as he was _not hearing_ his evil alleged-future-self’s evil alleged-future-destroying, he almost missed the wet slicing sound and the abrupt silencing of evil alleged-future-happenings followed by the loud crash of his door being smashed down. Almost. Loki’s eyes snapped open just in time to see the old man staggering forward, a glowing plasma-arrow skewered through his heart. A _huge_ , hunched tank of a man in metallic armor smashed through the short entrance hall and into the greatroom, followed by four paramilitary goons who ran around the tank-man and rushed toward the wrinkly old bastard.

The old man let out a growl, yanking the arrow from his chest and turning a glare on the curious little SWAT team that had just invaded. “You have made a very--”

“Shut him up,” the smallest invader ordered and one of the men launched at the old man with a sword, which he dodged only to catch a spiked, plasma-charged flail in the face. He slammed into the floor, his jaw and nose looking very much smashed, and then twisted, throwing a gesture at the flail-wielder. The flailer was shoved out of the way by a woman who caught the blast of destructive magic square in the chest. And stayed on her feet. A second later, she was throwing a much larger blast back at the old man, who shrieked in pain.

The small one was talking again, his voice echoing and reverberating in an entirely unnatural way as the lights in the apartment flickered and went out. Even the daylight coming through the hole Thor had punched in the wall seemed to dim and the whole apartment shook. Loki stared at the diminutive paramilitary goon, eyes widening. Was he speaking holy Egyptian? Yes, that would probably be why a wedjat eye was glowing on his forehead right through the polarized face-shield. The old man gave a deafening howl of absolute agony and burst into flames, which lasted no more than two or three seconds before dissipating, nothing but scorched carpet where he had fallen.

There were a few seconds of silence, then the small one started speaking, apparently to a radio. “We’re clear here. Meet back at the rendezvous point.”

“ _Roger that_ ,” a female voice answered.

“That went rather well, didn’t it? Were we worried? It didn’t seem too bad,” the man with the sword said.

“Pays to be prepared,” the man with the flail shrugged.

“Well _you_ are looking _exceptionally_ pathetic just now, aren’t you?” the small one noted, walking over the charred carpet toward Loki. “ _Please_ tell me you haven’t decided to go shirtless because _Thor’s_ doing it?” he gestured and the restraints holding Loki all released at once.

Loki gasped and threw himself out of the chair, stumbling forward a few paces and drawing to an uneasy halt in front of the smallest paramilitary goon. He was trembling, he tried to stop, but he was having a _really_ bad day and his involuntary reactions were being rather uncooperative. “W-what the Hel just- Who _are_ you?” he whispered.

“I’m hurt,” small-goon said in a dry tone, unfastening his helmet. “Here you’ve been fawning over Thor like a smitten fan-boy since the day you were born and you don’t even recognize your _real_ brother when you meet him,” he accused, removing his helmet and giving Loki a miffed look.

Loki’s jaw dropped slightly as he stared, flabbergasted. “... _Vali?_ ” he gaped, and then the gears started to turn again as Loki processed Vali’s claim. Brother? No, that was _certainly_ not right. “I’m- I’m not- I--”

“What? Not the _perfect_ little progeny, painstakingly designed and crafted to be _just like_ the progenitor?” Vali asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I- well, actually, yes...” Loki admitted.

“You have his memories, don’t you? Some of them, anyway. You recognized me,” Vali noted, slowly circling Loki, looking him over carefully. “I thought as much. Vain old bastard that he was, too full of himself to even commit suicide properly. Couldn’t _stand_ the possibility that the world just might keep on turning without him.”

Loki snorted, rolling his eyes. “Pretty much,” he agreed.

“Well,” Vali smirked up at him, “I suppose I can forgive you for being Father’s favorite, since it just means that he screwed you over worst,” he said. “But only if you put a shirt on. Just because _Thor’s_ doing it doesn’t mean you get to.”

Loki flicked his wrist, summoning a T-shirt from his dresser and pulled it on. “Which still does not really answer the question of why you are rescuing me...” he noted, not quite looking at Vali.

“Doesn’t it?” Vali tilted his head a little, raising an eyebrow. “You’re my brother by blood and now Asgardia’s gone and discarded you like so much refuse, exactly as the Asgard of old did to me. Family has always been important to me, Loki. Who can one trust, if not family?”

“... Are you being ironic?” Loki asked, tilting his head and staring at Vali. “I mean, you do realize that I _am_ Loki, right? I may not be the _original_ Loki, but I am _a_ Loki.”

Vali smiled and patted Loki’s arm. “Betray me and I will make you regret every last breath you have ever drawn,” he said sweetly.

“Ah, that’s more like it,” Loki grinned.

“Speaking of _horrendously_ unhealthy relationships,” the woman called, arms crossed and giving off an air of boredom. “We should probably get the hell out of here before some Asgardians or Avengers show up to stomp necks.”

“Right you are, Cassie,” Vali agreed and cast a smirk to Loki. “Pack your bags, Loki, we’re leaving.”

000

“Why am _I_ here first?” Atalanta demanded. “I had to go fifteen stories down to the street, cross it and come all the way up here. _They_ only had to climb _one_ flight of stairs.”

“Maybe the kid’s giving them trouble?” Prometheus shrugged as Atalanta climbed into the helicopter’s copilot seat next to him. “I mean, god of mischief? Probably gives people trouble?”

“He’d better be worth it,” Atalanta snorted, stowing her bow and stretching her arms. “Theeeere they are,” she said, spotting the party coming out the roof-access. She pushed her door back open and leaned out. “What took so long?”

“We had to disassemble the spells anchoring the apartment. Apparently it wasn’t really there,” Vali answered, pausing next to her and waiting for Ajax to get himself settled in the helicopter before everyone else piled in. “So, Atalanta, Prometheus, this is Loki-the-younger,” Vali announced, patting the young god on the shoulder as he slid into a seat.

“Hello,” Loki said, giving an uncertain little wave. “I’m a bit dazed and not entirely sure what’s going on, but that’s kind of been my whole week, so I think I’m just going to go with it, see how this plays out... I kind of figure Vali’s going to push me out of the chopper once we hit peak altitude.”

“Unlike Asgard, I do not hold you responsible for the crimes of your maker,” Vali replied dismissively. “So, introductions all round, the big fellow is Ajax, that’s Hector, Cassiopeia and Ulysses.”

“Why the _Greek_ theme?” Loki asked, tipping his head to the side. “I mean- I’m very pleased to meet you, you’re all lovely, let’s be friends.”

“Hi, Loki,” Ajax grinned and waved.

“He’s a sassy little thing, isn’t he?” Cassie chuckled, pulling the clips out of her hair.

“Well, it’s a legitimate question, we’re not Olympian-descended, after all,” Ulysses shrugged, leaning back in his seat.

“Oh- oh _wow_ ,” Loki’s eyes widened slightly as he watched Cassie unwind her braided hair. “Your hair is amazing. How long is it when it’s loose? Ankle-length? Does it touch the ground?” he asked, a very childish look of curiosity on his face.

Cassie grinned hugely and started laughing. “About mid-calf,” she said and then shot a leer at Hector. “I think he’s on _your_ team.”

“Maybe he _just_ likes your hair. Also, that’s offensive,” Hector snapped.

“I _do_ like your hair,” Loki agreed. “And I’ve never really been much of a team-player, either in the literal sense or the double-entendre.”

“ _What_ does that _even_ \- _what?_ ” Ulysses flustered, grimacing, as Cassie started laughing again and Hector and Vali both sighed, rolling their eyes.

“Well it just seems a bit _silly_ , doesn’t it? What, am I supposed to change the label every time I change the packaging?” Loki’s voice changed slightly halfway through the question and Atalanta twisted in her seat to note that more than the voice had changed.

“Did he just turn into a girl?” Prometheus asked, keeping his eyes on his flying as Cassie proceeded to laugh herself right out of her seat.

“Yep,” Atalanta confirmed. “And to be fair, labels are generally _part_ of packaging,” she pointed out.

“Touché,” Loki said, tilting her head.

“How d’you do thad?” Ajax asked, looking curious rather than disturbed. “Are you magic?”

“Well, I am, but this is something else, actually,” Loki shrugged slightly. “My body’s not quite as concrete as most people’s, I suppose is the best way to put it.”

Cassie was now curled on the floor hugging her gut as she continued to howl. Ulysses was apparently having a paroxysm. “ _No!_ That’s not- _No!_ You _can’t_ just- I’m _done!_ Atalanta, change seats with me!” he demanded.

“Nope,” Atalanta grinned.

“This is _not_ okay!” Ulysses exclaimed, grabbing at his hair and turning his attention out the window. “I’m _done!_ ”

“... I made him uncomfortable,” Loki observed, shifting back to male.

“Don’t take it personally. He’s always uncomfortable,” Hector waved it off, although he was looking a little unsettled himself.

“I _like_ him!” Cassie announced, sitting up on the floor as she finally managed to curb her laughing fit, grinning ear to ear.

000

Thor was hunched over the table, glaring at its surface between swigs of beer, nine empty bottles speckling the area around him. He’d spent little time at the tower in recent months, but had felt the need to flee the mansion after Rogue kept trying to entice him into conversation, and of course Asgardia was the last place he wanted to be right now.

Most of the Avengers who resided in the tower were away on missions of one type or another (or fighting each other perhaps, as they seemed all too wont to do these days) and those who remained must have noted Thor’s mood and left him to himself. The respite could not be indefinite, however, and his wallowing was interrupted by Carol walking into the kitchen with a large arrangement of flowers in her arms.

“Hey, UPS-man brought you something, big guy,” she announced, walking over to the table and setting the flowers in front of him. “So I guess somebody wants to turn that frown upside-down.”

Thor gave her and the peculiar offering a baleful look of confusion. “What is this?”

“I’m going to guess ‘flowers’,” Carol replied dryly. “So, y’know, if you’ve been moping around waiting for an apology or something, this might be it. Check the card.” She gave a careless shrug and turned, walking back out of the room.

Thor stared blankly at the flowers for a while, before reaching out and catching hold of a small envelope attached to one of the stems with a foil twist-tie. As he was pulling out the small card and puzzling over it, he heard a pair of voices approaching that made his stomach clench, distracting him again from the strange missive.

“But what if we stop thinking about it in terms of _folding_ space and start thinking about it like _coiling?_ ” Amadeus was babbling.

“Coiling?” Banner asked, sounding baffled.

“Like rope, or, oh! _Christmas lights!_ ” Amadeus exclaimed, sounding excited as they entered the room and he went straight for the refrigerator. “Y'know how the Christmas lights are always tangled no matter how neatly you know you put them away last year?” he asked, digging through the freezer and coming out with a quart of ice cream.

“... I think I've lost the metaphor, what?” Banner asked, giving him a bemused look as Amadeus sought out a spoon.

“I don't know! I'm hungry! Gimme a minute!” Amadeus demanded, digging into the ice cream and eating right out of the carton, looking like he fully intended to finish it.

Banner glanced at Thor and raised an eyebrow. “Flowers?” he asked curiously.

“Are those from SHIELD-girlfriend?” Amadeus asked with a grin, his teeth messy with chocolate.

“No,” Thor shook his head, looking back down at the card. “They would seem to be some manner of thanks.”

“Yeah? Neat. From who?” Amadeus asked.

“It does not say,” Thor shook his head and then read aloud, “‘ _Thank you for your service. I couldn’t have done it without you._ ’ There is no name... Just an image that I do not know.” He held up the little playing-card sized note, displaying the red sigil on the back.

Banner glanced at it and then his eyes widened. “That’s Pantheon,” he said in a sharp, sudden tone.

“Wait, serio-- oh _shit_ , yeah it is!” Amadeus took a step forward to see the card better and grimaced.

Thor frowned, glancing between them in confusion. “Pantheon?” he asked.

“ _Vali_ , Thor! That’s _Vali’s_ corporate logo!” Amadeus said and then shoved another spoonful of ice cream into his mouth before continuing in a nervous voice, his brow knit. “Is this something about Roxxon? I think they’ve got, like, a dozen lawsuits against each other. I mean, he’s obviously _taunting_ you, but what did you do that could possibly help _him_ out?”

Thor’s breath came short as he stared blankly at the flowers, not seeing them. “Thor?” he heard Banner’s voice call. “Odinson, what does he _have?_ ”

Horror froze in his gut and left him petrified, unable to breath, unable to blink, for what seemed like a small eternity, before he finally managed to rasp out in a hoarse whisper, “... Loki... I gave him Loki...”

**Author's Note:**

> The next chapter for Agent of Doomgard isn't ready to post yet, so I thought I'd put up something that's been kicking around my harddrive. I wrote most of this back after issue 11 first came out (and checking up, wow, yeah it's been a full year) all except for the closing scene. A couple conversations I've had in comment threads the past month or so inspired me to go back and finally put a cap on it.
> 
> I originally decided to go back and read the Pantheon comics (Incredible Hulk 376 to 426, 1991-1995) as background research for Loki, but I ended up being surprised by how much I enjoyed it. As a general rule, 90s comics were pretty much terrible. This was the period of Marvel's downward spiral towards narrowly-avoided bankruptcy, so yeah, it was pretty bad. The beginning of the Pantheon comics also starts out very underwhelming, initially introducing a lot of two-dimensional archetypes in the first few comics, once you get into the second and third year though, they've fleshed the Pantheon lineup out into characters who are actually interesting and likable.
> 
> Pantheon doesn't end up having any ties to Asgard until the grand finale (after Frank takes over writing) it being a little unclear up to that point whether Agamemnon's (Vali) claim of being a demigod is legit. And even after that chapter is closed, it's left unclear exactly where Vali's divinity is coming from (in the Eddas there are two Valis, one is the son of Odin and Rinda, the other is a son of Loki and Sigyn.) There already was a Vali Odinson back in 1980, but he was apparently so uninteresting we forgot about him and he never came back, and also Vali's statement that he was half-mortal would be consistent with Odin's son (Rinda being a mortal princess), whereas the offspring of Loki and Sigyn would have been a full-god.
> 
> In the Prince of Power mini-series in 2010, it was confirmed that Vali was Loki's son (and his mother is left a mystery, because apparently it couldn't have been Sigyn) and that may easily have been Frank's intent as well, based on [the brief interaction shown between Vali and Hela where she definitely displays a marked favoritism toward him](http://i95.photobucket.com/albums/l152/sand303/Comics/vali_ih423.20_zpstyj7fqvk.jpg). And mentioning the Prince of Power series also brings up a discrepancy in Vali's character design that might have confused some readers (because it's probably more likely that you've read Prince of Power than 90s Hulk.) Prince of Power pictured Vali as blond and very round-faced; I go by the original character design (used again more recently in X-Factor Investigations) where he looks a lot more like teen-Loki.  
> 


End file.
